


Thicker than Water

by KillingMonsters



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bruce Feels, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Hurt Thor (Marvel), Thor: Ragnarok (2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 06:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12978552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillingMonsters/pseuds/KillingMonsters
Summary: Bruce wakes up in a room he doesn't know, blood splattered across the floor.Au from after the arena scene.Can be read as Bruce/Thor, but not intended as such.Basically a shameless Thor Whump.





	Thicker than Water

Bruce wakes up in a place he doesn't know. Red and white floor and walls are the first thing he notices, then the weird decor, and finally the red that seems out of place. It's a little too dark, a little too unplanned, no way it's paint. Maybe it's blood. Shit, is that blood? It's definitely Blood. He gets up, finding a pair of pants that appeared close to his size. When he puts them on, they're a bit small,and probably a bit feminine, but he feels better. He straightens, looking around at the place. There's a huge hallway stretching off to who knows where to this left, a large bed that looked like the maw of a massive animal to his right. The widow behind him casts an almost eerie light across the room. There's a glint of sun on metal that grabs Banners attention. The moves closer, hoping he'd find a weapon, and is met with a shivering shape. A small circle above where he believed the shapes breast to be was the source of the glint. It was far too dark in the corner that this mass had shoved themselves into, save for the small strip of light across a ragged, bloody beard and the circle that had called his attention. 

“Hey, you alright?” Banner tried, already backing away. There was a shift, though it appeared to be pressing itself closer to the wall. The light now hit the beginnings of a shoulder, bloody and pale. “It's okay, I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me. Can you move?” 

“Yes…” The answer was quiet, voice low and strained. It was unsteady, as if it's owner was as scared as Bruce was. 

“Good, do you want to come out? I can help you if you come out.” He crouched, trying to look smaller and less intimidating. Not that he was intimidating in the first place. He was glad he had company, wounded or no. “Are you hurt?” 

“I think… so. Yes.” The shape moved slowly, tentatively. That voice was so familiar, what on- Oh my God. 

“Thor!?” Thor had to stop, holding his side, a small whine of pain escaping him. After a moment, he had successfully ejected himself from the tiny space between the cabinet and the wall he'd crammed himself into. He stays on the ground, however, leaning heavily on the wall. Now that Bruce could see, there were bruises spanning his entire right arm, as if he'd been held up in a painful grip by some huge creature. Blood rolled down his friend's forehead, and from underneath the light armor he wore. He looked absolutely awful, If Bruce was gonna be honest with himself. If he wasn't honest- he was interrupted by a soft cough. 

“...Banner. I am… happy to see you are alright.” He smiled through blood flecked teeth. 

“What happened to you?” Bruce, significantly less skittish now that his friend was here, crouched beside him. “Your hair looks good, by the way. Its suits you.” 

“Thank you.” He made to move, but was unfortunately stopped by a sharp pain in his gut. He settled back against the wall. Bruce set a careful hand on his friend's shoulder, who, or what, could do this to a God?

“You wanna tell me what happened? What did this to you?” He hadn't missed the careful avoidance of his question. 

“I can not say, I believe if I did, he would return.” Bruce didn't look into his eyes, he knew he'd find fear there, and he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge weakness in the most powerful being he'd met, including himself. 

“Okay. You don't need to say anything, let's get out of here. Can you stand? Where are we?” In response to his questions, Thor slowly stood, still rather hunched. One arm stayed pressed to his gut, part of his torn cape crushed in his fist like a lifeline. His bruised arm hung limply at his side, a few strange protrusions at shoulder proving that at least a couple bones had been forcibly shattered. He pushed himself to the window, Bruce trailing close behind. From here, he could see bruises at the back of his neck and upper spine that appeared to be huge fingerprints. They were scattered painfully across otherwise pale skin, the sharp bones of his spine rubbed raw. 

\--------

Thor hit the wall hard, collapsing to the floor in a brief moment of respite. He stayed there for just a moment, before slowly pushing himself up. Before he could though, a huge hand caught his throat. He struggled against it, nails scrabbling against tough skin. He was slammed again into the wall, though his throat was not released. He tried to call out, to say something, but he was slammed against the wall once again, and he opted to keep his mouth closed. An angry roar filled the room, and the carefully guarded fear in his eyes grew into terror. 

\---------

Bruce was shaken out of his strange flash by Thor's deep voice. Damn, even beaten down, his voice was still one of those things that it was virtually impossible to ignore. 

“There is the quinjet. We can not exit through the hall. So we must break the window.” 

“I can't do that, can you do that? With that arm, I mean?” Thor nodded, picked up a hunk of- Actually Bruce had no idea what that was- and hurled it at the glass. It shattered upon impact, glass and whatever-metal, maybe?- that mass had been exploding everywhere. Bruce ducked, but Thor grabbed him with his unbroken arm and pulled him to his chest. Seconds later, they were sliding down the side of the building opposite the widow. Bruces face was pushed into the leather of Thor's armor, and made to move. 

“For both our sakes, please don't look.” His face was pressed, though not uncomfortably, deeper into the leather. He felt when they hit the ground, a solid thud shuddering through the God's body. He was carefully set on the ground, and then Thor crumpled. Bruce barely made it in time to catch him. 

“Thor, I can't carry you. Are your legs okay? We need to hurry.” Thor slowly got up, pain dulling his eyes. “I'm so sorry, you can rest soon, we're almost to the ship.” 

“I'm alright.” Still, he leaned heavily on Bruce, they made their way toward the Quinjet. They reached it without any issue, and Bruce helped Thor up and inside. He helped the god lay down on the small bed they kept onboard for situations like this. Once he was comfortable, Banner helped him pull his chest armor off so he could see his wounds. 

“We're safe here, can you tell me what happened” Thor's chest looked awful, streaked with blood and heavy, deep purple bruising. Three of his ribs pushed at his skin and one had broken through, though barely. He'd be alright. Anyone else would be dead after the several skull contusions, but Thor was a God. 

\--------

He was thrown across the room, sliding across the floor. He threw a lightning bolt behind him, a last ditch attempt to hold off the beast. Unfortunately, the light only made it angrier. The disk on his throat began to flare, and he made to tug it off. Suddenly, his arm was clutched in massive palm, the machinery completely crushed. Thor would be grateful, if he wasn't pinned to the ground by a fist that spanned nearly his entire arm. He writhed, but the grip only tightened. 

“Please, I don't want to hurt you anymore, I'm sorr-” His plea was cut off by several resounding cracks. His voice lifted into a scream. 

\--------

Bruce snapped back to himself with the image of his friend curled on his side, clutching at the trapped arm in frantic, pained efforts to free himself. His ears still echoed with the screams. 

“Banner? Are you alright?” 

“Ye-Yes! Oh my God, I zoned out on you, I'm so sorry!” Banner quickly returned to checking for any wounds that could cause immediate danger. When he reached the brutalized arm, he stopped. “Thor, did I…” 

“No.” 

“I did, this was me. I did this to you.” 

“Banner, it is not your fault. You did nothing to me.” Thor was sitting up now, trying in vain to prove he was alright. Moving made his whole body ache with acute pain. “I am okay.” 

“I nearly killed you! Look at you! You're the opposite of okay! You look half dead at best!” Bruce could feel his emotions growing out of control, but the worry and fear clouded his judgement. 

“It takes much more than that to kill me. I will be alright. I promise you.” Thor now had his one working arm on the scientists shoulder, trying to give him something to hold on to. A silent plea to relax, lest he be put through this pain again. 

“How could I do that to you! I don't know where I am, or what's happening, the first thing I find when I wake up is a walking corpse! What the fuck is all this!” He pulled away from the blond man, holding his head. Thor had seen the hints of green pushing up the other man's neck. He pulled himself into a half ball, propped up by one shaking arm. His other arm fell across his lap, knees draw to his side. He thought to repeat that line from Natasha, but he couldn't remember it, his mind was far too cluttered. 

“Bruce please. You must relax.” It was as if the other couldn't hear him. He looked around, and upon finding nowhere that should shield him from the hulks blinding rage, he pulled the damaged cape around himself. He shoved himself back, against the wall, legs drawn up to his chest. Then, with the support at his back, it began to rain. Just a soft patter of droplets on the outside of the ship, running slowly down the windows. He did nothing else, just sat. He knew he wouldn't survive a second round of the hateful beast, and and his shoulder blades pressed to cold metal of the ship gave him the best spot to fight. Half dead or no, he's got some fight left in him. 

\--------

Thor's shouts of pain had devolved into quiet gasping. The hand that had crushed his bones had been swiftly pulled away, as if he hasn't meant to go so far, to hurt his friend so badly. However, as the much smaller man watched him from the floor, wounded and bleeding, anger bubbled through him yet again. The Hulk slammed both fists into the already bruised chest of the thunder god, a plea to stay angry, to keep the tiny man inside and them both away from earth. However, by the time he'd prepared his next strike, Thor was gone, leaving nothing but blood at shards of bone where he'd been. Hulks other guy was coming back now. 

\---------

The half transformed Banner threw a look behind him. He could hear the rain, and upon meeting the soft blue eyes across the room, he stopped. Fear blew the pupils wide, however hard the God tried to hide it. He focused on the rain, and slowly relaxed. He could vaguely hear Thor speaking in a language he didn't know. He regained control slowly, and slumped to the ground. Thor did not move, but his quiet voice seemed far closer than it should. 

“What language is that?” 

“I am glad to see you are still with me, Banner. It is a language spoken only on Asgard, I'm afraid ive no idea what it's called.” 

“Oh, cool. What were you saying?” He stood, dusting off his slightly torn pants. He should really find a shirt. Hopefully there was something on the ship. 

“I was asking the spirits of the Valkyrie for safe passage to Valhalla,” The cape fell from one bruised shoulder, and he shifted to allow his good arm space to pull it back up. 

“Is that warriors heaven? Why are you praying for safe- Oh my God, you thought- I could never!” 

“In my current state, I am vulnerable. The first round with your other half was taxing and has worn me further. I'm afraid you hold the highly sought after position of one of the very few beings that could end my life at your whim.” There was a long silence, broken by only by Thor's pained breathing. 

“Thor, I'm so sorry. I can leave, I don't want you dead. I'll go, you shouldn't have to wait for death as long as I'm around. Look what I've done to you, look what I could do to you!” He gestured harshly toward the others broken body, his eyes flashing green only briefly. 

“You needn't leave. As much as I detest requiring help, yours is all I have. I need your help. We must get back to Asgard. I gain strength from my home, I will be healed there. Please, do not leave.” Bruce watched him, a God who did not look nearly so Godly at the moment. Blood streaked his body, drying quickly over dark bruises and broken bones. Two dull blue eyes, almost hidden among the dirt and grime, watched him, fear hidden carefully within them. In the quiet, Bruce could hear the wheezing chitter that the broken ribs forced from his chest. 

“... Alright, but if I go green, don't hesitate to run.” 

“Even I were to agree to those terms, I'd be unable to follow through. My legs are not what they were before our battle. I can not run. But I will fight, I can promise you that.” The crooked, out of place grin comforted Bruce far more than any sort of promise could. As long as that spark in his eye was still there, it would alright. He'd be alright. They both would. 

“Let's go home.” He said, helping Thor to lie comfortably on the bed. Then, he moved to the front of the ship and got ready to fly. 

\---------

“You know what? Earth does hate you.” And the Hulk snapped. The next thing to come flying toward the already bruised god was an axe, and behind that, a good three tons of massive green rage. He dodged the axe, but staggered, and in that half second, he was struck in the side of the head by a fist the size of his torso. His body sparked, blue arcs running across his skin, but he pushed it back. 

“I don't want to hurt you!” 

\-------


End file.
